Her Story
by Miss Crookshanks
Summary: Her story of loss and love and happiness that inspired me to not lose hope. In memorial.


Things almost never work in the way we think they will. Ever. Especially with ways of the heart.

You don't believe me do you? I know these things from experience.

No! Really! I do! I lived one of those curious little things.

Now you'll sit down for a story. Hmph. Well, I guess it would have started a few years after the second modern wizarding war.

Yes the one with Harry Potter. Glad you know your history, but you had better stay quiet now!

This story includes him. Yes, I did know him. Well, he was my youngest brother's best friend. Alright, he saved my life when I was in first year. The Chamber of Secrets? Ah, now you know.

Harry wasn't exactly like all of those drawings of him. He was a little shorter than that. No, my brother was the tall one. Yes, my maiden name was Weasley. Yes my hair was red. You don't keep that sort of color when you're 123 years old.

May I continue my tale? Good. The third person in my story's Draco Malfoy. You know some Malfoys? Hmm, funny.

I dated harry when I was fifteen and fiery. Well how else would he be in this story? He left me that spring thinking, and rightly so, that what he was leaving to do was going to be to dangerous for me to join.

That's when he, Ron and Hermione disappeared. They were gone for months, and my family was forced into hiding. I was taken out of school myself.

Then that May. Merlin I still shudder at the thought . harry came back and dated me for a while after that. Then he became distant. I figured he was going into depression, like many others were. Turns out he wasn't.

He was sleeping with Draco No, that isn't all. My story goes for bit more.

Well, Hermione was sensible enough to give the two of them a place to stay. Yes, she is very brilliant. One of the best Headmistresses if you ask me, and I was at Hogwarts under Dumbledore. Well, I didn't want to cut Harry out of my life, and he was very confused.

Well, he didn't tell me, so I was angry with him, but sweet as he is, he was going to tell me the next time he saw me. Decided that it would be better if I just walked away with a broken heart.

Draco was arguing with Harry as I left, telling him that he wouldn't let him lose contact with me. That was a shock at the time because Draco had been rude for seven years. Harry wouldn't come after me, so Draco did. So sweet of him.

"Friends, good friends, are important." He told me. Got me to go and forgive Harry. Then it was the three of us constantly. It was Harry and Draco trying to keep up with me.

Well, Harry didn't like being recognized all of the time, and Draco kept getting hexed. I likely know more countering spells that you know spells. _Heh. _Well, inspired by Harry's father and god father, the two of them decide to become animagi. Hermione thought that the two of them were crazy, but she did help.

Oh, their forms? There's a story behind each one. Draco turned into a ferret. Yes, it was funny in the beginning. A Death-Eater we thought at the time was an old auror transfigured Draco into a ferret when he tried to hex Harry behind his back.

Oh, no no no! They were fourteen! The two of them still hated each other's guts then!

Harry preferred to do things on his own. He was usually forced to do it as well. Lone wolf, that's what he was. Why, yes, he did become a wolf!

Now, with Draco whiter than fresh snow and harry a dark grey color, I knew that I couldn't go around with the two of them calling them by name. The two of them hadn't thought of this, as they usually did, but I had. The first time we went for a walk in the park I called Harry Ashes, and Draco Snow. Oh those names stuck like glue. Even started using them even when they weren't shifted.

Did I what? No, I wasn't an animagus. I did have a nickname though. The two of them called me beauty.

But those tricky little imps we call love weren't done with the three of us. Draco and I became close, and we both noticed when Harry turned inwards. He would look at one of us without seeing, and listen without hearing. At night he wouldn't sleep, just stay quiet and stare at the wall or ceiling.

Draco was scared enough that he couldn't stand being in their room all night, so he started going down to the sitting room. Those sad nights we would huddle on the couch and wonder aloud what was wrong. One night Harry heard us. He was watching us from the door as Draco became hysteric with useless worry.

"Stop." We heard Harry behind us and both turned to look. He had his head against the wall and was upset. It took one glance for Draco to scamper over to him, and another for me to follow.

"Harry," I said, "We can't stop until we know what's wrong." Between the three of us I had always been the voice of reason.

But that night something changed. The air around us was alive with something. A bright flash and we suddenly knew the other's thoughts. Harry wasn't trying to move away from us, he was trying to find a way to have both of us. His feelings for me hadn't stopped when the ones for Draco charged ahead.

"You were happy. I changed it." Draco said. He started to sob then. I wrapped my arms around him to comfort him and without knowing I kissed him.

I looked at Harry, afraid of what he'd do. He'd always had the worst temper. I was more scared that he was smiling though.

"The three of us." He said and pulled both of us against his chest. Only because we knew each other's thoughts did we understand.

Harry had found a way to love both of us together.

Oh, I was happy. We all were. I had twelve children. Remember those Malfoys you said you knew? Great-grand children of mine, same as you. I've lost count of how many there are. But I was always happy, and still am.

_My great-Grandmother walked away at that point and was joined on her way by a man with white hair and a big dog. That was almost one of the last times I spoke to her, but she was everywhere at once. She lived for a few more years, and was found in the arms of her husbands when all three were discovered dead in her house. _

_This was a word for word account of a story I was told by her in the park. Ginevera Weasley Malfoy Potter lived for 130 years and by the time of her death was related to half of my graduating class at Hogwarts. The funeral for the three of them was crowded to the brim, only immediate family and persons over 105 years old were given chairs. _

_I was told this after I had flopped down on a bench next to her and declared that I didn't believe in love anymore. Her story turned my beliefs around and remembering her story kept me in the faith. I brought my future spouse with me to her funeral. _

_This is in memoriam. _

**Author's Note: I don't own Harry Potter. I just wrote this randomly. I hope everyone likes it.**


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